


Booty Call

by mannarose



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:42:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23485504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mannarose/pseuds/mannarose
Summary: You’re Bucky Barnes booty call. You both love and hate it.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 192





	Booty Call

_You up?_

You stared at the little bubble and took a shaky breath. You'd been expecting this, sooner or later. It had been a couple of weeks since Bucky had sent you the Booty Call Battle Cry. You wanted to give in, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that if you said yes, he'd be here in twenty minutes, have you begging in less than ten more, and sobbing his name in maybe another ten. You knew you'd love every single second of it.

Unfortunately, you didn't love that he'd be gone before the morning light. That you'd never had a meal together in a public place. That the only time he talked to you was after he'd gotten off. That he only texted you when he wanted to fuck.

As a matter of fact, you hated it. Hated knowing that he had a dozen other numbers in his phone for others just like you. That if you didn't answer, he'd simply shrug and move on to the next on the list. Hated that you didn't know if you were first, second, or sixth choice. Hated that you'd spend heaven knows how long trying to get over the bastard, and he'd forget you before sunrise.

This hadn't been how it had started. You'd started out delighted with the arrangement. Bucky was the hottest guy you'd ever met. Within two hours of meeting him, you'd discovered he was the best lay you'd ever had, too. He'd fucked your brains out until the gray light of dawn, then silently dipped out while you were sleeping, leaving nothing but his number and an invitation to text him whenever you wanted an encore performance.

The perfect booty call.

Until you started to resent his lack of concern whenever you found out about one of the others. You'd come to despise that moment when you opened your eyes to find him gone.

Every time you answered one of his texts, you grew more addicted to the scent, the feel, the taste of him. Every time he left you physically sated, emotionally you only grew more wild. You'd come to crave him, adore him. Every time he walked away without a backward glance, you came to hate him more.

The last time you'd awoken to find your face buried in sheets that still carried his scent, you'd sobbed like your heart was breaking. Once you calmed, you understood that as much as you loved it, loved him, the relationship had become toxic for you. You knew you had to put an end to it.

_No._

You didn't know if your real message came through in the intentionally curt response, but you didn't expect Bucky to push it. You imagined he'd simply move on to one of the others. You curled around your pillow and stared into the dark. It was going to be hard, but it had to be done. The only way to kick this addiction was to stop taking the drug.

* * *

Bucky stood across the street from your apartment building, staring at the phone in his hand, the cigarette he'd been smoking limp between his fingers. He'd known this day had been coming. He'd been dreading it for weeks.

He'd known when he implicitly agreed to this casual relationship with you that it was designed to be finite. He'd been okay with that, not interested in getting more deeply involved with anyone while he figured himself out. You seemed the perfect woman for him, and he the perfect man for you.

At least for the moment.

But then he'd started craving the time _after_ the sex more than the sex itself. He loved hearing about you, your life, your world. He loved your humor, your generosity, your kindness. He loved you, not that he'd been able to admit that to himself.

Even if he could, he'd still have no idea how to tell you.

He'd tried to show you within the limitations of your relationship, but it seemed that nothing he said or did, nothing he gave you was enough. He'd felt you pulling away, slowly but with no less certainty, the last several times he'd seen you. He felt like it didn't matter which strategy he used, nothing brought you closer. A few times, trying to make you jealous, he'd been particularly unlucky, and he had immediately felt the cold creeping in as a result.

Bucky looked up when a flash of light in his peripheral vision drew his eye to your bedroom window where, judging by the low yellow light, the bedside lamp had come on.

He told himself to walk away, to text one of the other women in his phone who would be happy to let him satisfy himself by satisfying them. He knew a dozen beautiful women who would let him try to forget you in their soft, sweet bodies. There was no reason to push it with you when you'd made your disinterest clear.

He knew it was a bad idea, knew it could come across as threatening, but he didn't want any other woman. He wanted you. He stuffed his phone in his pocket and started across the street.

* * *

You'd sat up in bed and turned on the bedside lamp when your brain wouldn't stop racing with rationalizations why you should text Bucky again, this time in invitation. You were resting your head on your knees and wishing you had a sponsor, someone you could call who could talk you down from this. It was a physical ache, this craving for him.

Your head snapped up at the knock on your door. Your heart racing, you climbed out of bed and headed for your front door. You didn't think to put anything over the tank top and boy shorts you'd worn to bed, too distracted by the prospect of a visitor after midnight, especially the one you anticipated. You were shaking a little, hope and dread battling inside you.

You rested your head against the door when you looked out the peephole and saw the gorgeous brunet with the cocky half-smile. Your hands were shaking; you knew it was going to be next to impossible to turn him away when he was right in front of you. You steeled yourself, your stomach in knots, and swung open the door.

Bucky nearly fell to his knees and begged when you opened the door wearing brief cotton around your hips and a tank tight and paper thin with a thousand washings. He could see the dark circles of your areolae through the translucent fabric and the urge to reach out and trace that tempting pucker was almost painful.

You said nothing, merely leaned on the door frame with your arms crossed across your chest, one eyebrow raised.

Bucky was both grateful and sorry to see your arms cover most of your breasts, though you were now pushing them up and together in a delectably enticing way. "I know," he growled, gratified by the shiver he could see running through you, "It's creepy that I'm here."

"Why are you here, Bucky?" Your voice was husky and sent a shudder through him. You were remarkable in your unconscious sexuality. He thought almost everything you did was sexy, but you never seemed to realize it. He needed you like air.

The look on his face was wearing away your willpower and tempting you to fist your hand in that too tight for your sanity shirt and drag him inside. Maybe he'd be gone by sunrise, but damn if you wouldn't have a blast in the meantime. "I was in the neighborhood." Your eyebrow raised again and had him shooting you a smile designed to charm. "I saw your light on. I couldn't stop thinking about you in your bed and thought I'd give it one more shot at talking my way in there with you."

"Don't have another booty call in Brooklyn?" Your voice was sardonic and had Bucky frowning.

He eased forward until his body was almost brushing yours, the heat of him seeping into you. It made you dizzy. "None I want," he purred, the sound, the sentiment, rocketing straight to your core. "Only you."

"You can't just show up and expect me to lay down, Bucky." You stood your ground, looking into Bucky's face in challenge. You wanted to give in more than you wanted your next breath, but you also needed to protect yourself.

Bucky leaned in, his forearm against the door frame over his head. He needed to brace himself to not touch you; your posture made it clear that you wouldn't invite it. He frowned at the coldness all over you. "Is that what you think? I'm on my knees here."

"You have to know this isn’t acceptable behavior." You were frowning back at Bucky as you spoke. His voice had held no trace of either mockery or irony. He sounded absolutely sincere. To top it off, the arrogance that normally cloaked him, that had cloaked him when you opened the door in fact, had fallen away. In its place was something sweet and vulnerable. You weren't entirely sure what to make of it, let alone how to respond to it.

"You're absolutely right," Bucky smiled sweetly, but melancholy touched the corners of his mouth. "I shouldn't be here when you already said no. Please change your mind anyway, and say yes?”

Your arms loosened and fell to your sides as you shuddered out a breath. You'd prepared yourself to resist the cocky bastard you'd met on a dance floor and fucked the same night, not this soft supplicant. You swayed forward, too vulnerable to his body, too addicted to what he could do to yours, too curious to stop yourself. "Dammit, Bucky," you sighed, and he could hear the indecision in your voice.

You were close enough that if he leaned forward, Bucky could take your mouth. He was having a hard time not kissing you, knowing it would demolish the last of your defenses. To top it off, your mouth had taken on the slight pucker that hinted at desire and haunted his dreams. Still, you hadn't said yes. His mouth a breath from yours, he whispered, every ounce of need and adoration he had for you aching in the tone. "Please."

Your eyelids were fluttering, your knees weak, as the plea in Bucky’s voice destroyed what willpower you still possessed when those bright blue eyes were searing with lust and something new. Unthinking, you stepped into his waiting arms and breathed, “Yes.”

“Thank god,” Bucky groaned as his arms came around you to lift and carry you into the apartment, using a foot to kick the door shut behind him. In the next instant, his lips were on yours and he was drinking from your mouth like he was parched for the taste of you. He'd never kissed you like this before, with a need so keen it seemed more like desperation. It was dizzying.

You knew you were playing with fire; you had already determined that another round with Bucky could prove catastrophic to your heart. And that was before tonight, before he’d cradled you against that thick, gorgeous body like you were something infinitely precious. That was before his arms had banded around you like steel even as his plump lips fed from yours like you were infinitely delicate. If you could think, you'd know the coming night would annihilate you. As it was, this soft, tender Bucky had completely destroyed your ability to do much more than moan mindlessly.

You wrapped yourself around Bucky as best you could and kissed him back with everything you had. This would have to be the last time. There was no way you could survive this more than once. As such, you saw no reason to hold back or pretend to protect your ego. By the time Bucky tumbled you into your bed, you were whimpering in your throat and rubbing against him like a cat in heat.

Bucky's head was spinning, so enraptured by the feel of you going soft and generous under his hands, your gorgeous body giving him more than he'd known to ask for. He’d always held back the tenderness he had for you, afraid that to reveal that he was falling for you would destroy what he had.

Now, however, he could tell there’d be no repeat performance. You were done with him and this night would be the last. He saw no reason to hide it now. He adored you and would hate if you never knew it. Steve had always accused Bucky of wearing his heart on his sleeve; a lifetime apart and still no one knew Bucky better than Steve.

Bucky was an incurable romantic and he was neither repentant nor ashamed.

His hands gentling, he rolled to his side to cuddle you close to his body. His metal arm curled beneath your shoulders, the hand in your hair, as his flesh hand slid up inside your tank top to glide smoothly over your skin, savoring the silken texture as he pushed it up and off.

Your hands were tugging impatiently at Bucky's clothes as he tore his mouth from yours to press open-mouthed kisses to the soft underside of your jaw where your scent was thick, and he could feel your moan against his lips. "You in a rush, doll?" He murmured it against your skin as his hand slid up your body, caressing your skin and kneading your muscles as he went. The feeling was exquisite.

So exquisite, in fact, that you were moaning as you answered. "To get you naked, yes." You were laughing by the time you finished the sentence, as Bucky had started to help you tug at his shirt, but inefficiently as he only reluctantly stopped sucking at your skin to yank it over his head.

He didn't seem to notice, but you did, that he wasn't wearing his habitual black wrap around the place where his metal arm met his shoulder and chest. For the first time, you saw the terrible scars and knew that whatever had taken the arm had been excruciatingly painful. Your heart hurting for him, you arched your throat into his mouth as your fingertips traced featherlight tenderness into the physical proof of the pain he'd endured.

His head lifted slowly to look into your eyes as you continued to trace the scars softly as you offered your mouth to his. His hand lifted to caress the edge of your cheekbone with his thumb as his eyes blazed with warmth. The edges of his mouth curled up in the sweetest smile you'd ever seen, making your breath catch at how unbelievably beautiful he was.

"Aren't you a doll?” Bucky's voice was a low rumble, almost a purr. It shivered over your skin and seemed to seep beneath, lighting fires as it went. The soft touch of his hand on your neck and smoothing slowly but inexorably downward was making your breathing speed and your heart race. You sighed as your hands slid around to dig into the muscles of his back.

"Bucky." You moaned his name as his mouth closed around the cords of your throat and his hand closed over your breast. His touch was gentle, almost worshipful, and utterly beguiling. He cupped, plumped, and kneaded, his fingertips savoring the satin of your skin, his thumb brushing over the rough surface of your puckered nipple.

Bucky lifted his head from where he was relishing the flavor of the delicate skin covering your collarbones to let his eyes rove over you. The cool blue burned as he memorized the sight of his hand in contrast to your skin as he drove you higher with his touch. "You have the prettiest tits, y/n," he murmured as his head dipped to close his mouth around one nipple while his hand continued to tease the other.

You shuddered in response to both the roughness of his words and his voice. As the blood left Bucky’s head and traveled south, his language grew harsher though the sentiment became ever more complimentary. The filthy-tongued praise was a weakness you didn’t know you had until you’d heard it in Bucky’s sandpaper-and-velvet rasp.

You felt like you'd fallen into another world, one where everything was warm and golden in the light of your bedside lamp and Bucky's spectacular blue eyes were watching you with something more than simple lust. His hands moving over you like he had a lifetime to spend bringing you pleasure had your limbs going heavy and languid. Still, you couldn't resist the play of those muscles as they bunched and flexed with the movement of his body against yours. The touch of your hands sliding over all that velvet skin had him purring deliciously in his throat as he drew harder on your breast and pressed you more firmly against him.

In that golden world, the air was hot and thick and every breath blazed as you drew in Bucky's leather and smoke scent. Every touch held as much warmth as heat and seemed to seep beneath your skin into your heart. Bucky had been making you feel insanely sexy from the moment you first locked eyes. The heated appreciation that had lived in that searing blue had only deepened since that first night. He had a way of making you feel, at least in the moment, like the only woman in the world. Tonight, however, for the first time, he made you feel adored.

Your hands were clenched tightly in his silky shoulder length hair as you arched, moaning in a way Bucky had never heard before. He loved the sensation of your hands in his hair, tugging gently at his scalp, but he loved even more the sight of you given over to his touch as he took the scenic route over every inch of your delectable skin. If tonight was the last chance he had to show you how beautiful he thought you were, he'd make sure to leave no doubt in your mind.

You were gasping for breath, growing impatient with the slow burn of desire Bucky had kindled and so carefully tended into flame as he savored every sound he could urge from your throat. His mouth grew more avid over your skin even as his hands raced to strip you both of every stitch.

Once he had you both naked, however, the urgency riding him eased and his movements slowed. If it had to be the last time, he wanted to make it worth remembering, wanted to imprint himself on you so that when you looked back on your walk on the wild side with the Winter Soldier, the memories would keep you warm.

To that end, he lifted his hand to loosen your grip in his hair so that he could lean away from you. Caught up in the heat, you didn't understand at first and almost cried out in protest.

"I want to remember everything, babygirl," he whispered hotly as his hand slid between your thighs to cup your pussy. If you'd been less aroused, or Bucky had seemed less turned on, you might have been embarrassed by how wet you were. As it was, you didn't give it a thought as in the next moment, Bucky's forefinger was teasing the crease where your thigh met your body.

You whimpered when his finger slipped over to lightly caress your folds and he went on with a wicked grin. "The way you sound," he murmured in that honey rasp and slipped the tip of his finger just inside to gather a little of your wetness. Once he had what he wanted, he slid that finger gently upward in a come-hither motion until he found your clit. You were panting before he even started rubbing soft circles into that knot, sending ripples of pleasure through you. "The way you taste," he said, and your eyes fluttered open when his hand left you.

"Oh, god," you moaned when you met his eyes as his finger slipped between his lips. Even if you could think of anything more to say past the shuddering wave of arousal that poured through you, the next moment his mouth was on yours. The sight of him savoring the taste of you was almost as carnal as tasting yourself on his tongue as it swept between your lips and his hand swept between your thighs.

Bucky's head lifted again, and his bright eyes swept over you in what had always looked like mere appreciation before, but now looked like adoration. "I need to remember the way you look, babygirl, while I make you come." His eyes came back to yours and blazed with emotion even as your hips bucked up into that busy hand. "You're so fucking beautiful when you come, doll."

The low throb of his voice set off the climax that his hand had so relentlessly driven you toward. You arched in his arms with a moan as he watched you with eyes that burned. His hand continued to move in all the ways he’d learned you liked to work every possible shiver of pleasure from you. He only eased his movements when you began to cringe away in discomfort. As soon as you began to push him away from you, he gentled his touch but continued to slide his fingers over and into you until you were melting like wax against him.

Bucky's hand stilled, however, when your eyes fluttered open to look into the bright blue of his and your arm lifted to bury your hand in his hair. The look of glowing satisfaction on your face was exactly the expression he wanted to imprint upon his memory, but your eyes brimmed with emotion as you pulled his mouth to yours.

You greedily swallowed Bucky's groan of need when your other hand closed around his cock to twist and tease. His tongue swept between your lips as he fed from your mouth with purrs of desire sounding in his throat. You found yourself utterly beguiled by the blatant evidence of your powerful effect on him, something he so rarely allowed you to see. Most nights you'd spent with him he'd been careful to remain in command of himself, which meant wringing every last orgasm from your body you could stand before finding his own climax. Though it left you physically sated, you remained emotionally starved.

Tonight, however, Bucky seemed as caught up in the firestorm as you. Rather than directing the flames, he was with you in the inferno. You could tell he was out of control when the teasing movement of your hand had spurred him to settle between your thighs before he'd urged you to climax at least twice more, as was his usual. You loved that he was out of control, adored the way his hands ardently raced over your body. His impatience found a match in you as you wrapped yourself around him and clung.

Tearing your mouth from his, you rasped into his ear, "Please. Inside me, Bucky."

Bucky was completely incapable of refusing you anything in that moment, least of all the one thing his body craved above all. He shifted his hips and plunged inside you with one swift, smooth motion. You arched with a gasp in a mixture of pleasure and pain, the first stroke inside you almost too tight but eased by the wetness he’d drawn forth with his fingers. He stilled immediately and buried his face in your throat to whisper gentle kisses over your skin as he murmured sweet words of affection and praise.

"God, babygirl," he was purring against your throat and raising goosebumps as you adjusted to him, your body softening around his cock quickly in the rising tide of desire. “Nothing in the world feels this good.”

Your breath was wheezing in and out too quickly to answer with anything beyond a hum of agreement coated in pleasure. Bucky’s cocky grin flashed in response only to fade into a glittering glare of lust when you clenched around him.

You had both arms wrapped around Bucky’s torso, your fingers slipping as you grasped for purchase on the sweat-dewed skin of his back. His chest was pressed tightly against you and you could feel his heart race to match yours as you both panted for breath. Your legs were tightly laced around his hips, locking him into place on top of you. 

Bucky lifted his head from your throat to rest his forehead against yours, needing to see your face now that he was inside you. The expression of enjoyment on your face had a decidedly smug cast as the muscles in your core began to grip rather than resist the intrusion. You chuckled wickedly when Bucky groaned in response.

“Problem, Buck?” you taunted breathlessly when his eyes narrowed in desire. Your thighs tightened around him, rocking slightly against him and working his cock in and out of you the barest half inch.

Bucky’s face melted into a genuine, gorgeous laugh of appreciation and your heart, already aching at the sweetness you’d discovered this last time, cracked down the middle. Sexy, dangerous Bucky had obsessed you. Sweet, beautiful Bucky destroyed you.

Bucky was still smiling when he nipped at your lower lip. His voice somehow both affectionate and dark, he began to thrust slowly into you as he replied. “I wouldn’t call you a problem, babygirl.” He growled when your nails dug into his flesh in response to both the quip and the delicious friction. “More like a temptation,” he purred, his hips moving faster, “or a distraction.”

“A diversion?” Irritated by the reminder that you were an amusement to him, you used what leverage you had to push back into Bucky, challenging him for control of the pace.

Bucky lowered his forehead to yours again and panted, trying not to lose it and start thrusting madly into you. The diabolical twist to your hips as you rocked up into him was driving him crazy, but the touch of bitterness he thought he heard in your tone helped him control himself.

His voice dropped as he stared into your eyes, his hips snapping harder into yours and driving you even closer to peak. “Doll, I jerk off thinking about your pretty pussy wrapped around my cock, your voice moaning my name, but yeah,” Bucky flashed that arrogant grin at the choked half-laugh, half-moan you gave, “you could call it diverting.”

“That mouth of yours is gonna get me into trouble.” You loved the things coming out of Bucky's mouth, but you worried that your heart was going to start listening and only break harder when he left.

You knew it didn't matter when that grin of his flashed and your heart ached at how beautiful he was. His skin was flushed with passion, his eyes bright with desire and something that looked like tenderness. The husky tone of his voice shot straight to your core and made you almost forget your already half-broken heart. "Promise?"

He didn't wait for an answer, taking your mouth in a kiss rich with affection and adoration. He adored you, wanted to spend the last of his time with you impressing it into your very skin. His heart beginning to break at the thought that he'd never see you again after this, he buried his face in your neck to hide the expression even as he rocked faster into you.

You noticed the sadness on his face before he hid it, but your mind was glazing in the heat and you had to put it away for later. Bucky had one hand wrapped around the back of your thigh to hold you open for his pounding hips while the other was wrapped around the back of your shoulders to hold you close, his chest brushing yours with each movement.

You kept your legs locked around Bucky's waist, your body climbing swiftly to peak under Bucky's relentless rhythmic thrusts. Whether you liked it or not, your body was an instrument and Bucky a virtuoso. He'd been the most devoted of students in learning exactly what you liked, and he delighted in providing it. You were barely coherent, moaning and begging as you sank your teeth into his shoulder.

Bucky groaned at the erotic blend of pleasure and pain, thrusting faster as his mouth ran away with his brain at the feeling of you clenching and rippling around him as your climax began to take you. "So pretty," he muttered, "so tight, so sweet. God, I love the way it feels when you come all over me, doll."

Bucky didn't stop, just kept thrusting harder and faster into you as you came until you were whimpering in tight little pants of desperation. You were on the verge of begging him to stop, but you also never wanted him to stop, the shudders of pleasure more intense than ever before. He'd driven you to ecstasy; the only thing left in your mind and on your lips was moans of his name.

"I love watching you come," he purred in your ear as his hips slowed to give you a brief respite. Or so you thought until he lifted up until he was on his knees, taking your hips in his hands with a wicked grin. "If you don't mind, I'd like to see it again, love," your heart kicked at the endearment, but he was already going on, "so would you play with that pretty pussy for me, baby?" Your hand seemed to move of its own volition, coming up to rub circles into your clit under Bucky's burning gaze.

Bucky thrust once into you, hard, making you arch and moan in pleasure as your core clenched around him. "I don't know how long I'm gonna last looking at you like this," he laughed, then proceeded to use his grip on your hips to slam his cock into you with the perfect mix of speed and force. It felt like no time at all before you were climbing once more to peak as Bucky watched with what looked like a mix of passion and triumph.

As a matter of fact, Bucky was trying to memorize the look of you writhing and moaning under his hands to warm him against the coming cold. He was going to miss you like crazy. To bring you to this place, to lose himself in you like he'd never done before, knowing this was the last time, he was afraid this heartbreak would be worse than he'd ever imagined.

As you choked out his name, your cunt clenching around Bucky's cock, ripples of pleasure shimmering out from your core all the way to your fingers and toes, Bucky lost his hold on his control. His hips snapping to yours more quickly and erratically, he moaned out your name as your climax triggered his. His fingers dug into your hips, his head arching back in pleasure.

You couldn't help but revel in the knowledge that he was as taken by what you brought to each other as you were. The cords of his neck were oddly beautiful as he found oblivion in you.

Rather than roll off of you, as was his habit when the skin began to cool, Bucky leaned down to brush his lips over your forehead, your cheeks, your eyelids, and finally your lips. You were giggling softly, but hesitantly as he did so; Bucky was never this sweetly or playfully affectionate, even in the post-coital glow.

Bucky had always wanted to shower you with affection but feared that doing so would change the dynamic and end everything that much faster. Now that he had nothing to lose, he saw no reason not to show you all the devotion he felt you deserved. "Prettiest, sexiest, sweetest dame in Brooklyn," he murmured, and the old-fashioned slang had you smiling even in your confusion.

Despite the fact that Bucky was short-circuiting your brain, it was starting to work again, and you had a number of questions. You had no idea how to ask any of them, however, and so remained silent even as Bucky kissed you softly, but deeply, before rolling to the side.

Rather than stretching out, hands behind his head, as per usual, he slid his metal arm underneath your neck and around your back to pull you close. His body curved to yours as his flesh hand came up to pull your arm over his chest to place your hand on his heart, his hand covering yours. "This is the last time you're gonna answer, isn't it?"

You didn't know what was happening, didn't know how to take Bucky's changed demeanor, but couldn't help but bask in it. It was almost like he cared, like he wanted you for more than just your body. If you could believe it, it would be heaven. As it was, it felt closer to torment. "It has to be."

Bucky didn’t know how exactly to describe the emotion in your voice, but it sounded a lot like regret. He sighed, wishing he didn't also hear the determination. He could hear that your mind was made up. He doubted he had any chance of changing it. "I get it. You're not wrong, doll. You deserve better."

Part of you wanted to scream, to curse him for sounding like he cared. You wanted to ask if you deserved better why he'd never offered you better. You wanted to damn him, send him away with a memory he'd at least remember. Your pride kept you silent, however, as the rational part of your brain reminded you to be grateful that he wasn't going to make ugly.

His tone was a caress as he went on. A shiver ran down your spine as he used the velvet tone of voice he preferred for persuasion rather than command. It took you a minute to understand what he was saying as you wondered if you had the capacity to say no to him when he talked to you like that.

"I know you like me gone before dawn," he said, figuring he had nothing to lose and everything to gain as this was his last chance, regardless, "but since it's the last time, do you mind if I stay 'til morning? I've always wanted to make love to you in daylight."

You sat up slowly, needing to see Bucky's face, when you processed what he was asking. He looked a touch worried, but utterly sincere. You saw no reason to prevaricate, not anymore, and so answered honestly. "I never liked that you left before dawn. I assumed you left because you wanted to."

Bucky's eyes were bright blue flames as he reached up to cup his hand around your neck and draw you gently down for a kiss. "Not for a long time, if ever," he murmured just before his lips touched yours. He took the kiss somewhere you'd never been with him before, some place warm and tender. When you pulled away, confused, he didn't let go, tracing your cheekbone with his thumb as he confessed softly, "I hate the idea of never seeing you again, doll."

You took a deep breath and opted for honesty over pride. You couldn't risk losing something spectacular because of fear or ego. "I need more, Bucky. The sex is…" your lips twitched at the cocky grin that flashed across his face, "outstanding, but it hurts when you leave now. I can't be your booty call anymore."

Feeling vulnerable, you started to move away, but Bucky's hand tightened slightly as he opened his mouth. Your heart pounding at the blazing look on his face, you paused a moment to hear what he had to say.

"I only leave because you haven’t asked me to stay." That bright, adoring look faded into a lopsided grin that made your heart kick. "Please," he whispered, his eyes soft, "ask me to stay."

Your mouth twitched into a quick half-smile as you huffed out a tiny laugh. "You wanna stay?"

"Until you tell me to go." Bucky pulled your mouth down to his as he wrapped his other arm around you to enfold you, rolling until you were under him. "If we're not doing the booty call thing," he asked, raising his head from a long, tender kiss, "can I take you out to dinner tonight?"

Bucky didn't know why that seemed to be the exact right thing to say, but he knew he'd hit the jackpot when the bright, beautiful smile that swept across your face nearly blinded him.

* * *

_You up?_

When Bucky's text tone chirped from where your phone sat on the nightstand, you were reading before you went to sleep. As soon as you saw the content of the message, you were happily scrambling to push the covers back and climb out of bed. When you entered the front room, Bucky was dropping his keys in the bowl next to the door and his bag on the floor.

You were so happy to see him you ran into his waiting arms.

He laughed as you sniffed him like a puppy, his arms tight around you. "There she is," he murmured lovingly into your hair as he held you close. "There's my girl."

"You didn't tell me you were on your way home," you spoke against the skin of his throat, not willing to let him get even an inch away when you hadn't held him close in almost two weeks.

Bucky felt exactly the same way, except he wanted your skin against his. He would be willing to release you just long enough to make that happen. With a contented sigh, he loosened his arms so that he could stoop to lift you into his arms. He laughed when you refused to loosen your arms from around his neck but didn't fight it, simply carrying you as best he could to the bedroom.

Once there, he didn't bother to let you go; your arms hadn't loosened a fraction the whole of the trip to the bedroom. He simply tumbled the both of you to the bed, humming happily in his throat as he buried his face against your skin. "Mmm, I missed you like crazy, babydoll."

In the months since your first real date, you'd discovered a side to Bucky Barnes that you'd never expected in the opening days of your relationship. At his core, the man was pure marshmallow. Once allowed to shower you with affection, he'd never stopped. You'd swiftly become even more addicted to the sweet than you were to the spice.

"Then why were you gone so long?" You pulled back to pout at him, knowing he loved it when you pretended to be angry with him for staying away too long, just as he'd loved it when you'd pretended to be angry with him for leaving in the first place.

Bucky's hand came up to cup your face. Until these last eleven long days, he hadn't spent a night away from you since he moved into your apartment a few months ago. He'd had to force himself to go, despite the debt he owed to the man asking it, but the joy of coming home to you almost made it worth leaving. "I'm home early," he chuckled, delighted with you. You were both well aware he wasn't expected for several more days. 

"You're not supposed to leave unless I tell you to go," you stated, your face unamused, even as your lips twitched with a stifled smile, "which means you're home late." You pulled his face back to yours to kiss him long and slow. You knew he'd had to deal with cold and hard while he was gone, so you welcomed him home with the warm and soft. "I think," you murmured against his lips, your voice a temptation and making his already erect cock twitch, "you're gonna have to work to make it up to me."

Bucky laughed as he rolled until he was stretched out over you, nuzzling your neck as his hands started working their way under your tank top. "Damn, doll,” he smirked against your skin, happiness rich in his tone, "you are high-maintenance for a booty call."


End file.
